When I was younger, I really thought I was going to be someone. I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. But I was so sure I wasn’t going to live like everyone else. I was going to do something different. I don’t know where all that confidence went.

My hair keeps getting thinner,
there are more lines on my face…
and I don’t know, it feels like that my life is fading away slowly.

And now I’m at this weird age. I’m not young anymore, but I’m not exactly old. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be. Someone in their twenties once said that he was going to kill himself when he turned forty. Forty… The meaning can be different. some see it as the new beginning of their life or some see it as the end of their life…

Have you seen Before Midnight? There’s this scene where Céline talks about a friend who found out he only had nine months to live. And his first reaction was relief. Because he had enough money for nine months. He could stop worrying about whether he’d have enough. When I first saw it, I just thought,

“Huh. That’s a strange way to think.”

But I keep remembering it now. I mean… how lonely must he have been? How tired do you have to be before that’s your first reaction? Sometimes I think about it too. If I knew how long I had left, I could just earn enough to cover that time, couldn’t I? Then maybe I could stop worrying and actually live for a bit.

I know there are good things in life. I’m not saying there aren’t. But don’t you sometimes feel like the good moments are much shorter than all the worrying? All the hurt and anxiety and just… feeling sad? You know when you are running a marathon, there are cups of water on the way. That’s what the good things feel like sometimes. You’re struggling, you’re about ready to stop, and then something comes along that gets you a little further.

Someone you love.
A sport you like.
Just a decent day.

I think that’s how I’ve made it this far. A little bit of this, a little bit of that.

But lately… I don’t know. They don’t seem to help as much. I keep going back and forth. Several times a day, sometimes. I’ll think, “Right. Come on. Let’s try this.” And for a while, I really mean it. I feel like I could start over and build a completely different life. Then the next day, I just want to stay asleep. I don’t want to open my eyes and have to do it all again. I don’t have to face the ugly fact that I’m just not capable of being successful what other people do. And I wouldn’t have to keep trying to prove something to everyone because I’m too embarrassed to admit how small I feel.

Lately, I just want to go somewhere. Far away. Somewhere nobody knows me. And leave all this stuff behind. All the things I learned because I thought that was how you survived.

How to act around people so they’d accept you.
How to keep yourself busy.
Just getting through one day after another, trying to keep up with a pace I didn’t even choose.

I want to get it all out of me, you know? And then work out what I actually want in there.

What do I even like?
What makes me laugh?
What would I keep doing if nobody thought it was impressive?

“If it all ends anyway ”

That’s kind of my motto. I don’t mean I should just wreck my life because I’m going to die soon anyway. I mean… if I only get this one life, shouldn’t I spend some of it doing what I actually want?
And if it goes wrong, that won’t last forever either. The failure, the pain of it. I suppose telling myself that makes me a bit less scared. Like having some kind of insurance.

I say all this and make it sound like I’ve figured something out. I haven’t. When I’m saying it to someone else, I’m really trying to get myself to believe it. I still look at my friends and compare. I still want to know where I stand. And if I think I’m behind them, I get anxious and start trying to get ahead again.

So… yeah. I don’t know. Maybe I’m so tired because I’ve spent too long being whoever I’m supposed to be. At work, around other people, with my family. Always trying to get it right for someone. Maybe I haven’t had much room to just be me.

I’m not saying I want to die. I just… don’t feel that much desire to get up and try really hard again. That’s all…

Sometimes I wish my dad were still here. I wonder what he’d say if he saw his son like this…feeling so small and defeated…